


Briefings

by TsarinaTorment



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 08:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsarinaTorment/pseuds/TsarinaTorment
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Request from Measured: "Scout/Miss Pauling fluff"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Briefings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Measured](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don't own Team Fortress 2
> 
> This is a request from Measured

Scout couldn't help but glance over to the briefing room where Miss Pauling was presumably conversing with Soldier about something work-related. Damn, he wished he was there. The talk itself was probably boring as hell but her presence would more than make up for it. He'd tried to sneak in before, but he was always caught – how did Soldier see him through the rim of that ridiculous helmet? – and Spy was a spoil-sport that wouldn't lend him any of his watches (he'd tried stealing one before but that really hadn't ended well and he dared try again in case Spy actually followed up with his threat of castration). He glanced over again, fiddling with his cap as he removed the headset he wore on-duty and inwardly sighed. Of course, with Scout 'inwardly sighed' involved a noticeable, almost theatrical, slump of the shoulders and parted lips, even if no air was actually released.

"Stop harping after the young lady," Engie told him disapprovingly. "She's got enough on her plate without having to worry about young men pining after her. You're doing her a disservice." Scout pouted as much as he would permit his manly countenance before slouching away towards his room (and away from her but he didn't want to think about that).

Lying on his bed, absent-mindedly tossing a baseball up and down in one hand, he couldn't help but think about the purple-clad woman that often frequented their base to talk to Soldier, or one of the other mercs, about something or other. Now that he thought about it, he was the only merc she hadn't spoken to. She hadn't been that disappointed in his physique that one time, had she? Or was Engie right and she was trying to avoid him because he was making life difficult for her? Another sigh, this one audible, escaped him as he stared up at the blank ceiling – the one part of his room he'd been told in no uncertain terms that he was not to touch with his decoration – despairingly. She wanted some peace and quiet from him, did she? Then he'd give it. He wouldn't enjoy it, but he'd do anything for her.

The next day's match he didn't flex in front of any of the surveillance cameras once, despite the ample opportunities he was given, and instead focused solely on his job. Teasing the opposition was one thing he did allow himself to continue doing as he dominated the enemy Pyro with glee, and he was perfectly entitled to some celebration after capping the final point, thereby winning the match for his team. His team applauded him loudly once back in the safety of their base, cheers and claps on the back commonplace as they recounted the highlights of their latest victory.

Sometime later in the evening, as usual, Miss Pauling arrived to congratulate them on their victory before pulling Medic aside for a briefing. Scout watched them go, squashing his jealousy as he remembered his decision of the night before. Instead, he walked off to his room, ignoring calls of 'Scout!' from various teammates. He'd confused them, and for a moment he felt a surge of triumph – they'd all proclaimed that he was easy to read and now they had no idea what he was thinking – before bitterly remembering how Miss Pauling never seemed to spare him a glance.

Just before bed, Medic summoned him to the infirmary.

"Are you alright, Scout?" the German asked.

"I'm fine!" he protested. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You haff been quiet today. Is something vong?" Scout shook his head vehemently. "Do not lie to me, Herr Scout."

"I've just had a bit of an off-day, Doc," he said. "There's nothing wrong."

"An off-day?" the doctor laughed. "My boy, I've never seen you perform so vell in all the years ve haff vorked together. But it is not like you to valk avay from the victory celebrations so early."

"I was tired," Scout lied. "So can I go?" Medic sighed.

"If you must," he said. "But remember, you can alvays talk to me."

"Yeah, whatever," Scout said, flapping a hand as he walked out the door. "Later, Doc." It never occurred to him that Miss Pauling had asked Medic to talk to him.

*****

Miss Pauling watched the surveillance cameras intently. For the past week Scout had been acting more subdued. He hadn't caused trouble once, nor had he ever attempted to talk to her when she visited his base. Medic had assured her that he was perfectly healthy, after forcing an examination upon him as the behaviour persisted. There wasn't even any signs of psychological trauma, so what could possibly be the cause?

There was only one member of the team that she hadn't spoken to concerning Scout (not including the runner himself) so she headed down to the base to speak with the Engineer.

"I'm not sure, miss," the Texan admitted. "He seemed to be getting mighty depressed because you weren't taking any notice of him, but then he changed his attitude so I don't know if they're related."

She sighed inwardly (unlike Scout, inwardly meant inwardly so she gave nothing of her inner feelings away with this act). Engineer was not the first mercenary to suggest that Scout's infatuation with her could potentially have something to do with it. Indeed, Soldier had been the only one not to mention it, instead proudly declaring that he'd 'grown into a man at last!'. She'd hoped it wouldn't have come to this, but it seemed that there was only one way to reach the bottom of this.

"Scout?" she called, entering the mercenaries' living area. "Can I have a word?" Excitement flickered over his face so fast she wasn't sure she hadn't imagined it.

"Sure," he shrugged, handing over his cards to Sniper as he followed her. She led them to the briefing room, wondering how she was going to approach the subject without making it sound like she had a personal interest in his health (even if she did but it was more than her job was worth to admit that).

She'd half-expected him to revert back to his old self when she shut the door behind him, and was disappointed when he sat on his side of the table in silence, looking at her expectantly.

"Scout," she began. "Your performances of late have been very… unusual." He didn't even interrupt there, to her surprise. "Not that, for the company, it's a bad thing, but people are becoming concerned that your mental state has been compromised." She didn't mention that in her mind she replaced 'some people are' with 'I am'.

"I'm the same Scout," he informed her, rather unconvincingly. She fixed him with a stare she'd picked up from Helen, one that plainly stated that she knew he was lying and that he was far better off telling the truth. "Why do you even care, anyway?" he said suddenly. "I'm the only one you never talk to. No matter what I do, you ignore me. If it means changing my personality to get your attention then fine. I'll do it. Because I haven't felt this way about any other girl and it's driving me mad because I freaking love you!"

Her eyes, behind her glasses, widened slightly in shock as she realised what he'd said. A second later, he also realised, if the sudden hand clamped over his mouth was any indication.

"I… I… didn't mean…" he stuttered, bright red and desperately trying to take back his words.

"Scout. Shut up," she said. He clamped his mouth closed, staring at her not too unlike a rabbit caught in headlights. Putting down her clipboard, she walked around the table in order to stand next to him. Looking at him, so insecure and not-Scout she sighed and forced him to meet her eyes. "I am no reason to change," she said firmly. He looked like he wanted to protest, but before he could find his voice she smothered his lips with hers, briefly, effectively silencing him again.

If he was red before, she didn't know what colour to call him now. She could feel the hint of warmth in her cheeks to suggest a mild blush, but not to the extent of the young man in front of her.

"I like the loud Scout better," she admitted before kissing him again. Yes, it was more than her job was worth if Helen found out, but right now she didn't care.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Measured – I hope it lived up to your expectations!
> 
> If anyone wants to request a story, feel free – details are on my profile.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Tsari


End file.
